Or…is it not a monster? The creature breathes, moves slowly towards her. His skin rising. His hair shining, a beautiful mixture of silver and ebony. His heat fills the space between them, breaking the stiffness of the cold forest.

Her bow and arrow are no longer pointing at the approaching creature. She admires how he moves, with premeditation, elegancy seducing her eyes, uncertainty ruling the minutes she probably had left.

She closes her eyes again, for seconds only, considering all to be a dream.

But she doesn’t wake up, and she can only feel tempted by the sense of his deep breathing, inches away from her skin.